Molly Hooper Is Important
by torchwoodtimelord
Summary: Molly Hooper, squib, left the wizarding world behind years ago to live among the muggles. She's quiet and unassuming. And always overlooked. But sometimes, to some, she is one of the most important people in the world. - A Sherlock!Wizardverse short.


**Title:** Molly Hooper Is Important  
**Series:** Sherlock!Wizardverse  
**Fandoms:** BBC!Sherlock/Harry Potter  
**Pairings:** none  
**Author:** Z-sama (dA user _the-lady-harkness_) and TWTL  
**Beta:** none

**WARNINGS:** none

**MISC:** We don't own Sherlock, nor do we own Harry Potter... Check out bonus content on the Sherlock!Wizardverse tumblr... _**sherlockmalfoy . tumblr . com**_

* * *

Overlooked.

Unappreciated.

Molly Hooper.

No one ever thanked her.

No one ever looked twice.

Quiet as a mouse, and always eager to please.

She'd never expected to find an invitation waiting for her, sent by a rather roughed up owl, on her window sill when she got home that evening.

Since she'd left home for university, she had never looked back at the world she left behind. She had been encouraged to seek out life among the muggles, as was befitting a squib like herself.

But to see an owl sitting outside the window of her flat, calm despite the bald spot from an encounter with her cats, was just a little unsettling. She never had contact with those she left behind, and knew quite well that things were best this way.

Yet she let the owl in, and took the letter. She examined the paper closely, feeling the slight roughness of the texture under her fingers before she looked for identifying marks.

The print was recognizable, but only in that the letter was addressed to herself. The letters seemed to be perfectly blocked as if done with a computer. Whomever had written it had taken great care to perfect each stroke.

She turned it over and her face paled. There, pressed into the wax that sealed the letter, was a rather famous crest. Anyone born in her old world during the last century would recognize the lion and snake crest of the Potter-Malfoys.

Molly frowned, racking her brain for who could have sent this letter. She knew of the famous wizarding family, of course. Who, aside from muggles, didn't? She ran through the short list of wizards and witches she knew and occasionally still interacted with. There was Mike Stamford, a squib like herself, from an old Cupid family. And Sally Donovan, the bitter old hag at Scotland Yard who's magic was forcibly taken from her when she was thrown out of the Aurors. (Though Molly was smart enough to never bring it up in front of her.)

Kind old Mr. and Mrs. Higgins who liked to meet with her at the library and discuss cats… Gabriella from the market. Maribell from the cafeteria. A handful of squibs that tried to get her to join their support group a few years ago.

Then there was Sherlock and his brother, who's name she'd never quite gotten.

None of them, however, seemed to fit with the wax seal on the letter in her hands.

For a moment she considered ignoring it. After all, she had nothing to do with the wizarding world anymore. And there was no place for her in it if she had wanted to.

Yet… she was curious.

And so she went to the kitchen to fetch something for the owl to eat. It followed and perched itself on the back of a chair at her kitchen table. It nibbled on the meagre scraps of bacon she had left over from breakfast. Sitting down, she stared at the seal again in wonder.

"What could they want with me?" she asked the bird, but it only continued to nibble as she drew in a deep breath. She scratched at her memory, trying to remember what she'd been taught as a child about wizard history concerning the family. There was, of course, the famous Harry Potter. She had all of the books on her mantle in the sitting room and the movies on DVD stacked beside them. And Draco Malfoy. She still remembered the scandal that broke out after the books were published in the muggle world. Oh… She'd thought the author was going to get lynched for it.

She held the letter in one hand, tapping the corner of it on the table. There were others, too. "Ah… I know," she said with a small smile. "I wrote a letter to the Holyhead Harpies fan club," she said as if speaking to the owl that now sat patiently perched on the chair. "Their daughter's part of the team's staff. That must be it," she said.

Thinking she had solved the riddle, she turned the letter over in her hands and wriggled her finger under the flap and curled her finger behind the seal, breaking it.

She opened it and pulled out a very fine piece of parchment. The paper was light weight and soft. Almost like linen. The letters were embossed on the black paper in silver and metallic blue. A gasp caught in her throat as she read the parchment over and over again.

She dropped it to the table and clamped a hand over her mouth, still surprised. It wasn't until she'd gotten up to fix herself a cup of calming tea that she realized there was a folded piece of lined paper tucked in with the parchment.

Sitting back down, careful not to let her tea near the black parchment, she picked up the lined paper and unfolded it. A smile graced her lips. Her eyes watered, tears of joy, as she read the very familiar handwriting of John Watson.

_ Sherlock told me what you did to help him.  
How you promised to look after me, too._  
_ Without you, Molly, we wouldn't be here._  
_ Thank you._  
_ -JW_

She set the paper down beside the wedding invitation, unable to do little more than cry happily. Molly Hooper was always overlooked, unappreciated, and ignored.

A useless, good for nothing squib.

Only this time, to someone, she was the most important person in the world.


End file.
